Hiatal hernia-aggrevated IBS-C and GERD: life hacks

 Blogs are basically extended memory- many times I've found myself just wanting to document a body of knowledge I've gained- but in the public sphere, putting things out there, hoping they help or resonate. This past 12 months I've gone through the hellish experience of dealing with yet another LPR throat burn and accelerated GERD thanks to a hiatal hernia. The key to getting all of this under control was dealing with the hiatal hernia, and in the end I did get to the point that the hernia was bothering me very little and my digestion was quiet. 

First, the TMI bit. I'm quite sure the hernia was brought on by straining on the toilet. I have a sluggish thyroid and one of the unfortunate symptoms of that is constipation. Just generally body processes not moving along the way they should. So every bowel movement is difficult. This likely was a contributor to my IBS-C diagnosis as well.

This was exacerbated by my love for coffee. Coffee has great cognitive benefits, but terrible effects on digestion. One that I'd read about but has been an overwhelming presence the past few years is dehydration. I've come up with a simple protocol to cope- drinking one glass of water for every cup of coffee- but I think the ultimate solution might be giving it up, I'm afraid. Anyway caffeine does stimulate peristalsis, which ought to help with constipation, but I guess with a sluggish thyroid they cancel each other out a bit. Then add the dehydration on top, which makes your poops dense and difficult to pass, and you can find yourself in quite a jam- literally.

Constipation led to straining, which led to developing my tear, yadda yadda.

What happens with a hiatal hernia is part of your stomach bubbles up through a tear in the hiatus muscle, which normally separates the esophagus and stomach.  This in effect forms a small "pre-stomach" where acid can wreak havoc, forcing itself up the esophagus due to limited space. This was the cause of the LPR damage, the subject of which I've already blogged about extensively. Today's post is how I managed the GERD and hiatal hernia and in fact I believe was healing up by the end.

Hack #1: Benefiber in your drinking water.

I thought job #1 was to solve the constipation- the root of the problem. It's important to keep hydrated already- moreso when dealing with both constipation and GERD. I've tried morning doses of Benefiber and it had basically no result.  I think it was on Reddit that someone posted this suggestion from their doc: to a 16-oz water bottle, I add 4-5 teaspoons of benefiber and sip on it throughout the day. This addresses the situation in an ongoing fashion so your poops are lighter and easier to pass in general, which reduces the need to strain.

Hack #2: Enlist herbal assistance

When it's bad, look in herbal tea blends for buckthorn and senna- these both have a laxative effect that can help things get moving. They can't fix problems that are already developing, but used on a semi-regular basis, they will help soften stools and prevent genuine crises. For maintenance, choose herbal blends with dandelion, ginger and chicory. I like steeping Traditional Medicinal's Dandelion Chai Probiotic and Ginger Aid blends together for a one-two anti-inflammatory, colon-toning punch.

Hack #3: replace your morning coffee with chicory

Speaking of chicory, it's very popular in roasted and ground form and serves as an excellent coffee subsitute. And it's an excellent root for increased intestinal motility.

Hack #4: get your caffeine from green tea and chocolate

One of the most agonizing decisions I made was to give up coffee. If you can tolerate it, it's good to get caffeine in small doses for a cognitive benefit. The most satisfying way I've found to do this is by drinking green tea and eating dark chocolate. Now, when my digestion was triggered and sensitive, chocolate was a total no-go. But now that things are calmer, I've finally been able to reincoporate this indulgent, healthy snack. But I've never had problems with green tea, thankfully. It has multiple benefits including reducing inflammation- very helpful when dealing with IBS-C and GERD both.

Hack #5: heal your gut like healing a wound

Things for me really turned around when I encountered Alanda Jones' video on YouTube about healing the esophagus. Calendula is known for its wound-healing properties- we were already using it in puppy paw balm and personal hand creams. I bought calendula steeped in olive oil on Etsy, then bought a big bag of the dried flowers. when my batch began running out, I just started adding more flowers and oil. To 6 oz of warm water, add a teaspoon of manuka honey and a dropper or two of calendula oil. Have this first thing in the morning, and last thing in the evening until the honey runs out. Manuka honey- especially the effective stuff- is expensive, so you don't want to be eating a lot of it on an ongoing basis. Wait a week and see how you feel and there is no improvement in your GERD, try another round of it.

Related to this is taking a high-quality probiotic and digestive enzyme. If you have GERD, you're probably taking PPIs, and those deprive your digestion of acid, the greatest weapon your body has for breaking food down into usable nutrients. You need to give your digestion some help in the form of enzymes and probiotic supplements. Take the probiotic once or twice a day, and take the enzymes with every meal. Also be sure to eat some raw fruits and veg every day, which have all of their enzymes intact. Which leads neatly to-

Hack #6: Have a salad every day- sometimes drink it!

One thing you must do to get beyond this is have fiber in every meal and snack. This means snacking on fruit (I like banana and dried figs best) and nuts like whole almonds, and experimenting with whole grains and beans. A salad every day can be an efficient catch-all for many of these things. But a vegetable and fruit smoothie will absolutely transform your life. All it takes is one 6 oz. smoothie a day to see really dramatic results. I like berries for the anthocyanins, and pineapple for the digestive enzymes.Any greens can be used but the easiest and most abundantly available are baby spinach and kale. you can even find them in a mix. Just toss them in and mix. It takes away the excuse most of us have for putting it off or not doing it at all.

Hack #7: maintain beyond the symptoms

Every day I make a large thermos of hot water and drink herbal tea throughout the day. I also drink the water supercharged with Benefiber every day. and though I don't do the manuka honey and calendula every morning,  I do still put calendula in the herbal latte I start every day with- I'll post that sometime.

I hope you find this information useful and helps you get your inner self in better shape to help combat hiatal hernia and GERD.

"Good Value" is killing us

I went to the grocery store this morning to get a few items plus breakfast. I'm a commuter and if I dillydally in the mornings at all, frequently I find myself grabbing breakfast on the go. It's an unfortunate habit: it's probably the single most compelling reason for my obesity. But that's just how it rolls when you are a busy family man too tired to get organized for the next day before crawling into bed after dishes are finally done, you know what I mean?

I am reviewing the usual short-order options at the breakfast counter and my eye strays over to the lunch board, and I see those magic letters: B, followed by an L, ending with a T. I have to be honest here: I love bacon. Who (among meat eaters) doesn't? It's salty, smoky, sweet, fatty, chewy, crispy... I mean it hits ALL of my major cravings. So I order one. The price is reasonable ($3.99) and and my food-addicted brain reasons "If it's cheap, it's probably small.")

Really, I think food addiction must seize control of the rational parts of the brain, because the voice of reason was totally hijacked by my cravings at that moment. I know for a fact that one of the problems in modern America is out-of-control portion sizes. And *bacon...* well, let's just say I could literally eat bacon ALL DAY LONG. So handing me a giant-sized BLT, with whole strips of bacon spilling out of each end, is the equivalent of trying to soothe a junkie's shaking with a shot of pure H.

Portion control, portion control, I chanted to myself as I walked to the car. I'll have only as much as I know I should, I "reasoned." So I had about half and very, very reluctantly tossed the other half in the trash, despite the suggestion in the back of my mind that I could have the other half later. Even if I could wait, that's still a whole giant BLT in one day, probably upwards of 1200 calories total.

Now that my craving has been satisfied, I can look back more objectively and list the pros and cons of this sandwich.

PRO

It's a LOT of BLT for the money. $3.99 for five thick slices of bacon on huge bread with lettuce and tomato- that is a substantial sandwich, and a great deal.

The bacon was VERY GOOD, as MOST BACON IS.

I ate bacon.

Ok, I that's all I have.

CON

I have lived a half-century, and have a preconception of what a normal slice of bread is. Let's be honest, many people have no idea what a size of slice was the norm until the obesity epidemic began. The answer is the little stuff, probably the smallest "normal" slicing bread one can encounter in the store. Yes, it's still there, the vintage stalwart of normal portions, but you rarely find it in the forms modern consumers demand.

Ironically "artisanal" breads hint at this amount of bread with its various shapes, because they are meant to be served in a variety of ways. Meanwhile the old fashioned sandwich loaf has swelled to twice its former size and then some. Looking at the bread this sandwich was make of, it is verging on two and half times the surface area of old-school sandwich bread. Another disturbing thing about all sandwiches made at this particular store is the bread is very- and I would argue, annoyingly- thick. Why? Well, it's all about value, wouldn't you say? Their pre-made sandwiches look HUGE in the display case. Why, look- it's only $4! For this massive sandwich! What a great use of my hard-earned cash!

But it's not a great use of your cash, because in the end you get fat eating huge sandwiches instead of human-scale sandwiches, and that gets VERY expensive in the long run.

Think of a sandwich as a human being. The size of sandwich you eat is the size of human you are making yourself into. When I was a teenager, I was introduced to grinders for the first time. These were the massive loaf-of-bread submarine sandwiches people who worked in shipyards ate. Their work was grueling, and they expended massive calories. Grinders were delicious and cheap. They NEEDED massive lunches to maintain weight. I remember going to the Sub Shop and barely managing to get through half a sandwich- a 6-inch portion. It seemed like a lot of food that just went on practically forever.

I didn't have myself cryogenically frozen- I have been alive and kicking in subsequent years and have ordered my share of subs. But the last time I went to my favorite joint, I was startled by the realization that nearly everyone was ordering a grinder's worth of food- the whole 12 inches- for themselves. Of course, they could be reserving half for someone else, but how likely is that? Wouldn't you order a separate half for your dining partner? To test my suspicion, I took extra time eating my own lunch, and confirmed that a few people who ate their sandwiches were going right ahead and plowing through the second half.

It doesn't take a PhD to understand why businesses offer value. Who wants to spend unnecessary money? the problem is, these are high, fat, salt and sugary foods that our bodies identify as sources of calories of the very rarest and most precious kind. Every neuron devotes itself to yearning for those foods if they are near, and try to talk us into eating as much of the beast as we can to fatten up for the lean times. The problem is, we don't have any lean times anymore. We don't grind rivets on shipyards- at least not many of us. Most of us sit at desks all day. We don't need the whole grinder. We need the sandwich our parents or grandparents would make us- reasonable portions that just fill us up, not stuff us to the gills.

The other problem with a BLT that I haven't mentioned yet is it's stacked with the salty and fatty sensations that bypass our innate portion control- while at the same time not possessing much in the way of vitally needed nutrients. As long as we don't satisfy that need, we will continue to be hungry until we do. Which means if your regular diet is kid food- burgers and fries and soda- you're probably hungry all of the time. The B in BLT should have probably been BEETS instead of bacon. But what short order place puts beets on a sandwich? Very, very few, and none with prices anyone can afford, like McDonald's.

Obesity is a conspiracy of large-scale food providers and preparers that has succeeded beyond their wildest dreams. But what sort of people would imagine rampant obesity in anything other than their nightmares? Something to consider.

The no caffeine revelation

Almost a month ago, after having dropped coffee a year ago thanks to my problems with dizziness,  I thought I would give it a try again. I was dealing with sleep deprivation and thought how nice it would be to have a latte after so many months of abstinence.  I love a good cup of coffee, especially a well-drawn espresso. But coffee has not been kind to my digestion the last decade or so. There is the diuretic aspect, which seems to affect me more strongly as I age. I also experience occasional abdominal cramping and just general weirdness. Plus it really plays havoc with my energy levels- the depths are deeper, which make me cranky, and after enough crankiness it really made me (and Abbey) wonder if the moderate improvement in attention span and alertness was really worth it.

Adding to my stress about coffee drinking was my mother insisting I had inherited her "iffy" stomach. She has symptoms on a regular basis that sound a lot like Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Stressing out on something makes it even worse for her. And for a while, that was really starting to sound like me.

But, like the cub scout who has to poke the campfire with the stick and swish it around until someone's tent catches on fire, I had to keep trying to drink coffee. When I drank it regularly, I would have coffee-friendly days and coffee-unfriendly days. On the unfriendly days, I would still want my caffeine fix; since it was because my stomach was iffy that I couldn't have coffee that day, I would switch to soda, which I have relied upon to make my stomach feel better for quite a few years. Sometimes I could tolerate a cup or two of tea; but as often as not, I would end up with stomach discomfort, not as bad as with coffee, but uncomfortable enough that I regretted drinking it- and I am a bona fide tea lover.

So, back to the main story: I decided to indulge in the dark stuff. All went surprisingly well. No problems whatsoever. I felt just fine, and extra perky that day thanks to the stimulant effect. The next day came and, feeling emboldened, I thought I'd have another cup of coffee that morning.

I wish I hadn't.

I'll preface the following by saying I was not 100% surprised; coffee has caused this reaction in me before. But never with as much persistence. For thirty hours following that cup of coffee, I felt a weird spasm in my stomach, high and on the left. It would spasm for ten seconds. Two minutes would pass, and it would spasm again for ten seconds. This went on for over a day. The night of the first day, my sleep was interrupted several times thanks to the discomfort of the spasm. I wouldn't say it hurt- but it was quite uncomfortable.

Later the first day I thought I would have a soda, my old standby for stomach problems. It did not help at all- in fact, it only made it briefly worse. This was a conundrum. I had always been able to rely on some cola to get me through rough digestive times. But now it wasn't helping at all. I decided to stop drinking coffee, tea, or soda. I wasn't sure what was causing the spasm- I figured it was caffeine, but figured it could also be the acid in the coffee. If it was acidity, soda certainly wasn't going to help matters. So, if my confusion about was happening and how to stop it, I decided to drop all suspect drinks entirely.

It's been three weeks now, and I have to say, it's one of the best dietary decisions I've made. First and foremost, the "iffy" stomach is completely gone. My digestion feels the most normal it's felt in a decade. I now wonder if perhaps soda was creating the digestive problems that I was using soda to medicate, which would be pretty darn ironic.

The hardest part has been battling the brain fog. I have kicked coffee before a few times. One of the side effects of caffeine withdrawal is the dreaded brain fog, during which your brain seems to have been docked a few IQ points. Apparently the fog was so powerful that I had forgotten that I had even experienced brain fog before! Once that lifted, however, I realized I could feel as sharp as before without any caffeine, and that seems like the more desirable alternative.

So all I drink now is water- and it seems my digestive system is recovering from problems I had managed to ignore for years.  I highly recommend dropping all caffeine if you suspect you have anything resembling IBS- my experience makes me wonder if it might be the best thing you could do for it.

Adventures in Disorientation

Fourteen months ago, about 8:00 AM on a Monday morning, I stopped at a grocery store to grab a few snacks to take to work. I looked up near the top of a shelf and felt a little disoriented for a moment. I shrugged it off and headed for the checkout. A few minutes later, while walking to the car, I was suddenly very dizzy. The world spun around me. I made it to the car, sat in the driver's seat and held on. I stared at the logo of the car at the center of the steering wheel. After five very alarming minutes, my dizziness subsided.

I had no idea what just happened to me, but I had a sinking feeling that wasn't all of it. I made it home before anything else happened. Once I was there, just as out of the blue as the first episode, I was intensely dizzy again. It was so extreme I could barely make it to the couch. I knew there was no way I could make it to work, so I called in. Afterwards I sat there and waited for it to subside, like last time.

Only this time, it didn't. The room spun violently around my head for two weeks straight. On the first day, after about an hour of dizziness I was sick as a dog. I wouldn't be able to hold anything down for a couple of days. I spent entire days sitting on the couch, struggling to focus on just one thing across the room. But I couldn't, at all. In order to get to the bathroom, I had to crawl on my hands and knees.

Some positions were better than others. Amazingly, and thankfully, I could close my eyes and feel relatively normal, so I was able to sleep at night. My doctor thought I had BPPV- positional vertigo brought on by a dislodged rock in my inner ear. Brains use the rocks to tell whether the person is upside down or right side up, moving or not moving, turning or going straight. Abbey and I researched it and learning about the Epley maneuver- a series of positions designed to jostle the errant rock back into position. In one part of the maneuver, with me flat on my back and with my head turned right, I almost felt normal. But not totally. So I was able to lie in that position and at least keep from feeling sick the whole time.

After a few days, my mom brought over some Dramamine. That did make me a feel a little better. A few more days later the doc decided he wanted to order an MRI to make sure I didn't have any tumors in my head leaning on an optical nerve. It was about a week into my crisis and I was still only barely able to get out of the house. Someone had to support most of my weight down the front steps or I couldn't make it. In cars, I had to focus on something on the dashboard- relatively static in relation to my head- in order to not feel sick. I was also quite sensitive to light. They fetched a wheelchair when we arrived for the MRI, and someone had to help me both in and, later, out. In the MRI chamber, I had a better time with it than many people do- the claustrophobia didn't bother me so much, because inside was a little black spot of something that was very close to my head- I could focus on it and feel ok. By this point in my illness I had become quite good at staring intently at something for hours- I did nothing else all day.

The Dramamine helped a little bit. To help a bit more, the doc gave me some other stuff that is very similar to Dramamine, but worked a tad better for me. Also, he gave me a prescription for Valium. It turns out it has something in common with those two other drugs: they all force the brain to not rely on the inner ears for directional information. Valium would have the extra benefit of relaxing me so I could sleep through the rough bits. I actually never had to use the Valium, I'm thankful to say, but it was reassuring to have something a bit more powerful at my disposal in case the need arose.

After about two weeks of this unique torture, my illness entered a new phase. As abruptly as it came, the vertigo disappeared one day. But there were, and continue to be to this day, after effects. My symptoms changed from aggressive vertigo to a more subtle- but equally irritating- feeling of bobbing on water at all times. Actually, the technical term is Mal de Debarquement- the feeling of having just gotten off of a boat.  It felt more like being on a boat, though, with me nowhere near getting me sea legs. If I moved my head too quickly, reality would blur, as if the universe were a giant bucket of water, with everything sloshing around a little slower than me.

By this time, I was seeing an ear, nose and throat specialist. It was his determination, since the Epley maneuver never really helped me, I was most likely suffering from labyrinthitis, an acute infection of the directional semi-circular ear canals by a virus. The virus makes everything in there swell up; the resulting high pressure goofs up the ability of the canals to assist with orientation. He said how it came on with me was pretty typical. For starters, before I got it, I had a series of head colds. He said the infection causes acute vertigo frequently followed by Mal de Debarquement. It would just go away on its own. But there was a possible downside: it could also cause neural damage in my inner ear. This might need therapy to  counteract.

The feeling of bobbing on the water persists to this day- though in only the last three weeks or so, the effects are quite minimal, and I feel dizziness- at this point more of a sensation of light headedness- only occasionally. Strangely, the dizziness has intensified the effects of a virus Abbey and I contracted- along with the usual flu-like symptoms, I had the added bonus of feeling dizzy. Since my symptoms dragged on over the months, my ENT was afraid I had sustained some sort of permanent neural damage. To determine whether I had, he suggested I pay a visit to an
audiologist to have my hearing checked.

I showed up dutifully, donned heavy, clunky headgear and climbed into an isolation booth. The results? In the "noise" region of the sound spectrum- around 7000hz- I have a deep notch in my hearing. Such is the legacy of the very loud concerts I attended with no ear protection in my twenties. In all other areas of the sound spectrum, however, I had the hearing of a 19 year old- perfectly balanced. If I had sustained some sort of neural injury, there would be imbalance- a weakness in the damaged ear. They could not prove that I had that sort of damage.

To make super extra sure, my doc ordered something called a PENG test. The point of the PENG test is to judge one's reaction to visual stimuli, and - the fun part- artificially stimulate dizziness in the subject in order to determine what makes them dizzy. I passed the reaction to stimuli part pretty well. After playing a game of follow-the-jumping-red-light-with-your-eyes, It was determined I have the visual reflexes of an athlete. So, once again, it seemed I had no neural damage or resulting imbalance. Then came the part where they induced me to be dizzy- and, therefore, sick.  The audiologist achieved this by blowing very warm air into my ear. This was rather unpleasant, and it worked like a charm- after each test I felt dizziness creep into my perception, and a peculiar sort of warmness before starting to get ill.

 The tests, as interesting as they were, really proved nothing in the end, other than my partial hearing loss. It was still anyone'e bet why my dizziness has lingered the way it has. I feel hopeful; the effects are pretty minimal, but I will occasionally be bummed to discover the dizziness is not totally gone when I feel it when moving my head too fast or- this is pretty strange- I find myself getting sick watching a video that contains rotational movement. There is always a chance I will contract this again- though the chances for anyone to get it more than once are pretty remote. It has been a major stressor for me this year, and when I think about it too much I actually get a little nauseous, which is why it's taken me this long to even want to talk about it. If you have acute dizziness and your doc identifies it as labyrinthitis, don't forget no matter how upsetting it is to not be able to do anything but sit there and try to focus on something, anything, it's temporary.


Update- I wrote this piece a couple of months ago. Since then, the symptoms have been subsiding even more, but at a snail's pace. Very gradually, I have been returning to normal. At this point, I just feel a little weird when I look down, then up quickly- a little off kilter, like a mild head rush.  The only way to describe how this feels is like crossing your eyes to make two images of everything, and verrrry slowwwly letting the world come back into focus. Right now the images are just a millimeter apart- just enough to make me feel a bit woozy. It occasionally makes me mildly ill, and it's still hard to watch videos of things spinning. But I feel 99% normal. It took over a year to get to this point.

Eat what your Grandmother ate

Studies now prove what we have probably suspected anyway: The rise of obesity correlates exactly with our adoption of processed foods. Starting in 1899, the amount of processed foods in the average American diet was near zero. There was a bump in the fifties with the advent of "time-saving" foods for busy housewives and the apparent adoption of the teen malt shop as the blueprint for the future average American restaurant. Obesity and processed food use really began to take off in 1980. It would really be interesting to take a close look at that decade to see what exactly happened, but one possibility is the switch to HFCS in sodas, which occurred at the beginning of the 1980s. HFCS  has been demonstrated to be more fattening that the equivalent amount of sugar.

So, the percentage of foods in the American diet that comes from junk food and fast food is within shouting range of 50% nowadays. The problem is, our bodies respond in completely different ways to junk food than it does to ordinary whole foods. This study demonstrates foods high in salt, fat and sugar screw up the pleasure center of the brain most closely tied to our instinct to survive. For ordinary foods, the body judges the nutritive  value of a new food, and makes us like it even more if it likes what nutrients it packs. It also has a limited ability to alter these messages to our brains depending on seasonal body needs. In winter, it will makes us crave more dense, fatty foods to help us conserve heat; in summer, it makes us crave light and wet foods to cope with hot weather.

Unfortunately, we live in a time when seasonality can be defeated- we spend most of our time indoors in a sort of eternal early summer. So what small amount of seasonal regulation the pleasure centers can manage is short circuited. Furthermore, our systems are not geared to like  anthocyanins and isoflavones. What it wants is what is most likely to help the organism survive until the next big kill: fast energy sources like sugar, slow-burning energy sources like fat, electrolite feeders like salt, and, in any event, high caloric content. Once our bodies have had a taste of foods that exemplify this in the extreme- by and large, high-calorie, low-nutrient creations such as soda, Death by Chocolate, Doritos and Chicken McNuggets- our bodies trick us into liking these items more and more, and craving them with increasing intensity, to the point that the pleasure center can no longer make useful decisions- it just craps out.

We are driven to crave foods for a lifestyle cycle of feast and famine. Few of us live life like that anymore (though it's become fashionable in some circles to adopt an extreme paleolithic diet consisting of just that). But excepting these extremists, the rest of us are left to fight our desires with reason. One way to out-smart a broken pleasure center is to avoid these trigger foods entirely. The circuitry of the brain returns to normal and after a while we stop relying on trigger foods to get us through the rough patch until the next elk is killed. Yes, studies seem to indicate that we are addicted to junk food- but the way out is simply to stop eating them. Heh, easy, right? Ok, not so much.

 But, actually, there is a blueprint for eating like this all around us: what people ate like before the advent of instant potatoes. Imagine what your parents, grandparents or great-grandparents (depending on how old you are or where you live) might have made for their meals. My own grandparents, like many Americans of their generation and region, were agriculturalists. They always had a huge vegetable garden and eggs from their own hens. They killed chickens and had a butcher process one of their animals every once in a while for more serious meat needs. Their cattle wandered open grassy fields, so their beef provided natural omega 3s. Except in a few special cases, they grew, cooked and ate their own food. Dinner might consist of  two salads, sliced tomatoes, green beans and extremely fresh chicken. For those of you with no agricultural past, just find a cookbook from 1930s or 1940s. There will be plenty of ideas. Alternately, explore the traditional, regional cuisines of other countries. There are traces of a long agricultural past in all such recipes.

Taking this idea to the grocery store is pretty simple. If it has a list of more than a couple of ingredients, there's a good chance it's not natural. It's definitely true if there are things on the list you don't recognize. Try to eat the outer part of the grocery store- the least processed foods you can find.

I know it's not the easiest thing to do. All of us need to succumb to the call of pizza delivery and takeout Chinese now and then. But find a pattern of cooking foods for the week to come. Prep everything on Sundays. Recycle items from one meal into several subsequent meals. The Internet is full of tips about how to do it. And here is a good article about how to avoid non-natural foods that may be lurking in your diet. With these tools in hand, maybe we can spark a revolution in the American diet that brings us back from the brink of a Wall-E-style future and restore our bodies to a normal, healthy state. At least I'd like to think it's possible.

I was sleep-studied

I packed a bag, said goodbye to my family and drove away a few hours before bedtime last night. Why? In response to a query about daytime fatigue and mildly high blood pressure, my doctor suggested I submit myself to a sleep study. Nobody liked the idea of me going off in the evening and sleeping in a weird place, most of all me. But, if I have sleep apnea, it's not something to be taken lightly, so off I went.

The sleep center was in a nondescript building in the midst of an industrial park, next door to the state Bar Association and across the street from a credit union. After checking in and receiving some paperwork, I was escorted to a room that looked for all the world like a quite nice little hotel room- except for the small detail of having no windows whatsoever. Some hotels, I have to admit, I would have preferred not having the view they did. But in this context it just made it seem all the more odd.

After getting into pajamas and filling out paperwork, I was told to wait until someone would come to get me "hooked up." this was the understatement of the month; in the end I felt like a dolphin trapped in a tuna fishing net. Well, except for the absence of tuna. I was escorted to a room with a chair in the middle of the room, next to a wall full of wires and electronic gizmos and featuring a sink permanently labeled "not clean." Two women in medical garb strapped a harness to my trunk, and glued several electrodes all over my head, as well as in some compromising places. They threaded several wires through my pajamas to hook to the electrodes. I was given a sort of patch bay to carry with me. I managed to not trip over something on the way back to my sleep chamber. The pièce de résistance of this ridiculous outfit would be the sensors, added at the last moment, designed to be attached to my nostrils. there were actually two sets of them: one for measuring oxygen, the other for CO2. All four were then shoved up my nose. After getting it all hooked up to a gadget at bedside, it was nighty night time.

The room was pitch black, except for the status light on the camera that was constantly keeping its eye on me. As I lay there trying to relax and accept my uncomfortable fate, a voice came to me out of nowhere, making me jump out of my skin. A two-way PA system would be open all night long, so I could take with the faceless techs behind the camera. In order to quantify how much I twitch and writhe at night, they then asked me to do things like look to the left, right, and up, point my toes. Also, I don't remember how exactly they asked me to do this, but the gist was I was asked to undulate my midsection. I dutifully did all the silly things, then they left me to drift peacefully off. Alas, despite my attempts to ignore the things uncomfortably jammed into my nose, they kept me awake on and off for hours.

At one point, in the gloom, I realized I had to pee- but in order to do so, I had to be disconnected from the device at bedside. It felt funny to do so, but I just stated out loud to no one: "Hello, I have to go to the bathroom." Silence. No answer. I asked again. Nothing. Okay, this was not funny. The thing in my nose was really bugging me, and by now I really, really had to go. After several "hello! hello?"s, a voice came over the intercom: "I'll be right there." I was unplugged so I could relieve myself, but had to return moments later to the same uncomfortable state.

Finally I fell asleep. But, in what seemed like an instant, an attendant came in and said they had enough oxygen and C02 data, they wanted to give me something called CPAP, which stands for Continuous Positive Airway Pressure. it actually creates a little pressure where air comes in your head in order to keep the passages clear. An added bonus: if you try to talk, air will rush into your mouth and prevent speech from happening. It's like sticking your head out the window of a moving car- except inside out. It's a very weird feeling. In order to maintain this pressure, they had to strap a mask to my face that only covers the nose. Ideally, there is a bit of a seal to maintain pressure. Apparently there was insufficient flow, because I fell asleep and had a dream that I was drowning. When I awoke, I tried to get the thing off of my face, but the three- point velcro harness cleverly kept it snugly in place. I guess the sight of me sitting straight up and struggling to take the mask off of my nose got their attention. They traded it for a mask that had a less tight seal. Ironically, this did not suit their purpose as well, but if it weren't for that leak, I'm pretty sure I was not going back to sleep, and wasnt that the whole point of this exercise?

I managed to get about two and a half good hours of sleep after that. In the morning (or so they said- in my windowless cell, it could have been noon, three days later), I was led back into the chair room and stripped of my adornments. I was given a sucker and sent on my way. Oh, okay, there was no sucker- just a promise that after what they saw, my doc will most likely want me to come back and spend all night with a nose mask on. I can't wait.

So, I guess I do have sleep apnea. I am, however, adamantly opposed to the idea of sleeping with a mask on my nose all night for the rest of my life, so I'm resolving to make some changes: eat less cheese, drink less caffeine, become a side sleeper, and lose some weight. With all four changes, there's a chance I won't need the mask- or the more drastic next step, some kind of surgical modification. Could it be I've finally received the kick in the pants I needed to hit the gym and get serious about my weight? ...maybe.

Man-Beast Diet-Rage War 2

I'm back! This time, with renewed vigor and enthusiasm- this time, with the whole family on board. 2011 is going to be the year the Salmons family gets into shape, and you're going to get to read all about right here.

If I haven't driven you away yet... thanks for sticking with me. Community is important. I've read the lists of things you have to do get in shape and lose the bulge, and community is always listed. My reaction is, usually, "oh well, I can work on everything else and be strong and powerful in my infinite male solitude." No. It really doesn't work that way. You get fired up about it, but the fire can be sustained only by the continual feedback loop of community support. Being a solitary, ruminative sort by nature, I was very wrong in assuming (a) I really don't have a community as such and (b) I can do this all by myself. So who is in my healthy lifestyle community?

-Abbey, my wife. She seems just as resolved as me to get the family back on course. You just don't know how encouraging it can feel to hear fiery words of determination from your spouse. Thanks, honey. It really means a lot. We will both be the envy of our coworkers by next Winter, just you wait and see.

-My loving mother, who is also a member of my gym. Our New Year's resolution: to work out one day a week together. I know that will start any day now- as soon as neither one of us have a bad head cold...

-My kids. All three are athletic and spontaneous. How they play has been a real inspiration for me. It seems to me now that the real secret to embracing exercise is to start nurturing your natural desire to play again. I feel like it might have died at one point, but we've been having a good inner dialogue as of late. Life can be circuit training if you just let yourself have more fun- something we adults need more than we realize.

-Jenny, my lifestyle coach, provided by my health insurance. I don't know who you are or where you live, but that's ok. Your friendly voice really does help me keep goals on track. Even though our conversations are not very spontaneous, please, Jenny and all other health insurance-appointed preventative maintenance counselors out there,  know that your efforts really do mean something to us.

So, I'm bringing the fire this time. And the broccoli rabe. Talk to you soon.

Shut up and listen!

I don't know if I've always ignored the signals my body sends to my mind. But I do know I have been for some time. Some signals are impossible to ignore, like the times I've needed immediate attention for serious medical problems. But most signals are more like status reports, something that merely registers in your consciousness- you can let your autonomic system handle it (like letting voice mail get it). You can even ignore slightly more urgent messages, especially if your conscious mind is on a mission. Feelings of satiety fall into that latter category. Many times I've ignored how my digestive system feels just so I can get one or two more bites of a second or third freshly baked biscuit with honey and butter, or in order to savor a few more forkfuls of perfectly cooked pasta and tomato sauce. I've even tried to override those signals with more input. For a long time I considered soda more than just a refreshing beverage; I also held a belief that it was somehow "medicinal." A liter of cola was a great cure of indigestion, something I've experienced repeatedly in the past twenty years of my life. I now think the grand total of medicinal value soda has is to drown out the messages from my body so I don't have to listen and feel guilty.

I've been conducting a curious experiment the past day or so. I've been listening to those messages, making note of them. I'm not letting them dictate how I eat- yet- because I don't want to scare myself into not listening. It takes a little practice to listen, especially if you're used to ignoring yourself. But it's like riding a bicycle- do I need to repeat the old adage? you never really forget. Practice makes perfect. et cetera.

So, now that I am actually listening to my bodily voice mail, what am I discovering? For one, it doesn't take much to fill me up. In fact, the default sensations i've been experiencing for several years now, I'm coming to believe, is coping with being overly full. Even by the simple act of listening to my body's feelings, I have reduced what I am eating. I set out not explicitly desiring to do so, and I think that is really key. I will fail if I turn this into a battle of endurance, determined to eat less and beat my cravings into submission. In the past, doing this has always resulted in an immediate system-wide rebellion and the next thing I know, I'm halfway through an extra-large slice of new york style cheese pizza with a 36 ounce Coke. No, this is not about suppression. this is about acknowledgement.

I started my day as usual yesterday, having what Abbey and I jokingly call my "breakfast and second breakfast-" breakfast first thing upon rising, ostensibly to prevent a gastric rebellion in the face of encroaching espresso. Then when everyone is up, I make a second breakfast to have with everyone else. In preparation of the day I'm about to spend in an office in front of a computer, I always take a savory snack for the morning and a sweet one for the afternoon (I think this is related to blood sugar). I've also been known to bring along a soda from the convenience store because I'm afraid my tank of water will be too boring. I didn't get the soda, because by the end of second breakfast my stomach was crying uncle. It was more murmur than thunder, but the signal was received. Then I had my snack as usual- sadly, nothing out of the ordinary- an olive loaf and american cheese sandwich on wheat. By the end of that, I sat and waited for the report, and it was not good. I felt sluggish and a tad dazed. Concentration became more difficult. I had a hair cut during my lunch hour. Afterwards, still dragging from the sandwich, instead of shoving something down my gullet I opted to cut up some raw vegetables and dress them with olive oil and vinegar, and packed those for my snack instead of the sweet snack. That's right, I skipped lunch. Me! I skipped lunch! For the first time in, er, well, have I ever skipped lunch?

On the way back to my office, I felt memories flooding into me. They hit me with some force. I realized that basically every day when returning from lunch I can barely move one leg in front of the other. And I had been ignoring it day in, day out. Today I felt different. Really, how I felt was... normal. More normal than usual.

The mind is such a powerful instrument. When ignored, you let your subconscious desires and base animal instincts dictate your behavior. At least that's how it now seems to me. All it takes is the simple act of listening to your body to turn this powerful consciousness toward productive, reasonable tasks. I would say this last day has blown my mind, but I guess it's really quite the opposite.

the trifold path

This post is a little disjointed- so many new ideas I want to get down. It's something that will take some time to make more sense.

Wow. I think in one of our conversations today Abbey and I really hit on something deep- and important. It began in such a mundane way. I had gone to Walmart to get storage bins (I'm mad at Target at the moment and decided to give some cash to their mortal enemy today, even though I dislike Walmart even more) and saw a shirt I liked. 100% cotton, a red checked pattern (very atypically for me, I have been getting way into fire colors lately, which I find very interesting), camp style. So I took it into the fitting room to make absolutely sure it fit.

If you have tried on clothing at Walmart, you know what a revealing experience it can be. It's not every day (at least for those of us with no room of mirrors at home) you get to contemplate your body from every conceivable angle. The shirt had its own good qualities: the fabric was comfortable, the stitching solid, the buttons well chosen. But one quality was inescapable: no matter how nice the shirt was, I looked lousy. Of course, it had nothing at all to do with the shirt.

I went home, shirtless, full of inner resolve. I suddenly had the feeling this was my last chance to make lasting change. Whether that was just fear, or just bulldada, remains to be seen; but how it felt was exactly was undeniable, and it completely enveloped me.

Abbey, to her eternal credit, changed gears as soon as she heard me relate my Walmart experience and we sat about drawing some new lines in the sand. Change diet, yes, be more religious about the workout schedule, sure. We'd already had this conversation. But she really surprised me. The first words out of her mouth were about how I have a switch in me regarding my relation to food, and that switch needed to be turned off.

Perfect analogy; and, so true.

I'm not just looking to relieve hunger when I eat. I am also looking for entertainment and comfort. The ritual provides me with identity and stability. I'm beginning to realize all my creative energy goes into food preparation. And it's self-perpetuating because I do it every day, I'm pretty good at it, and it's an essential behavior, so it's easy to sink all of my creative momentum into it. But it's a black hole; in the end, there's nothing to show for it except for a spare tire and atherosclerosis. Well, we all get fed, sure, and I have the skills to cut basil in a chiffonade. But it's beginning to depress me thinking of all the more interesting things I could have been doing with that momentum.

What's been missing from my previous attempts to lose weight and get into shape is my mind has not been into it. This is so obvious now you it's as if the fact has been slapping me in the face for decades and I've become an expert at ignoring it.  You hear this platitude about sports and business all the time: is your head in the game? That phrase never struck me as being all that important in my life- until now.

The tools a person can get the mind in sync with the body are wide ranging; the two that appeal to me the most are meditation and guided imagery.  The goal is to reprogram the mind- to turn that switch off, or, more usefully, rewire the switch to perform a new function. Of the elements necessary for my personal transformation, I see this as the most important of all. It's the been the main instrument of my self-sabotage for a long time, and it didn't have a name before today.

I'm struck by the similarity of this triad- food, exercise, meditation- to the three parts of Freud's famous tripartite mind: Ego, Superego, and Id. Surely we know what the Id's domain is: food. The urge to eat is universal in nature; the desire to eat comes from the most primitive part of the brain. Of the three ships with which we are concerned, this one is the hardest to steer. Changing its relationship with food is like trying to change yellow's relationship with lemons. It doesn't seem right to even try, sometimes.

The Superego is exercise: the action we take upon our environment to survive. Although the urge to fight or flee is primitive as well, the forms action can take require strategy and sometimes a measure of skill. Logic is an integral part of action, whether the action be ill-advised or not. The more we act, the greater our need for calories. And the Ego provides the balance between the two. It's the navigator. In many people this guidance is either only needed minimally, or happens naturally, even automatically. For some of us, the connection is not so straightforward. It's up to each of us to find a way to straighten this parts of the self out as needed. I see this as my goal right now.

It remains to be seen if this is just the latest trick I have concocted to convince myself I am really doing something to improve my situation, only to abandon it, give in to my lower impulses, and wait for the next great idea to fool myself all over again.

I eat like a fat person

I eat like a fat person.

Firstly, let me just say that I’m not saying that to elicit sympathy- look, poor Michael, he can’t change his bad eating habits. It’s just something that dawned on me out of the blue today.

You can ask Abbey- I'm obsessed with food. Almost every other conversation we have is about what I need to eat to not be fat. The answer seems obvious: take in less calories than you expend. If it really were that simple, no one could sell a diet book, as no one would be fat.

As we all know, it’s more complicated than that. Today I noticed I’m slipping back into an old comfortable pattern: drinking soda. I even have a stable of justifications: I just have a little soda and like mainly sucking on the ice (which is true to some degree); it makes my stomach feel better (which it does, for some reason); coffee and tea bother my stomach and water is boring. All have a kernel of truth. But they are all rationalizing a behavior in which I’d really rather not engage.

So I thought about getting back on the wagon, how I would have so much more water the next time around, and how the McDonald’s takeout would be replaced by a wheat bagel with broiled tomato at home, how I would load up on fruits and vegetables, etc, etc.

Not pure BS, but pretty close. Mainly because this is my pattern: I imagine how I will be “next time,” then just do the opposite when that time finally comes. Simple, eh?

One of the problems is I just don’t remember how I ate when I wasn’t fat. I’m sure by the time I’m seventy I will have bored many people about how when I was 30 I didn’t have a car, biked to work every day, didn’t have to cook for anyone else so I really didn’t care when or how much I ate, and I was in the best shape of my life. That story is absolutely true.

Sometimes it just seems like a great dream I had a long time ago. But, no, I mustn’t forget- that really was me.

So how did I eat back then? I really don’t remember because I really didn’t care, and that’s one of my biggest problems- I care, way too much. I like to think of myself as a good cook, proud of the fact I can make several different meals that every single fincky kid in the family will eat.

My ego investment needs to end. Also, I need to stop regarding cooking as my main creative outlet.

I read a forum thread recently about how thin people eat. It was a real eye-opener. Some of them don’t watch what they eat at all. Their trick is they don’t eat much because they aren’t hungry. Not hungry?!? I could eat at ANY time. That is no exaggeration. Some of them, however, do watch what they eat, some of them it seems have accidentally discovered a good system for eating. In fact, some of them resemble how I think I ate back in the day, when I just didn't care that much. Nothing fancy; just basic ingredients. Fairly repetitive. pasta and vegetables. Lean meat. salad. No fast food. lots of tomatoes. Spicy sometimes.

I have to stop caring so much about what I put in my mouth, ironically, to get to the point that I eat only things that I should eat, because I care about what I put in my mouth. Still trying to wrap my brain around this zen paradox. But it’s true.

It’s a struggle. And a process. But I just have to get my big butt off of the ground and back on the wagon, no matter how many times I fall out, because I’d rather hitch an occasional ride with a wagon than have to walk the whole way in the mud. And now that I am a father of three wonderful but impressionable children, they need to learn to stick to the wagon, mostly. If we all have to slog through the mud, we aren't going to make it.

Better Living Through Chemistry?

I bet you're wondering what this post is about.  And maybe you've noticed I'm slacking in the posting department overall?  Yeah, I'm sick.  I've had a cold all weekend.  But that's not the worst of it.  Our kitchen sink is totally clogged.  We've been doing dishes in our bathtub for several days now.  To unclog the drain, we've tried everything.  One of our last ditch efforts to avoid calling a plumber involved Liquid Plumr.

When that didn't work, I decided to take matters into my own hands.  I went to the basement, unscrewed the vent on the drain pipe and WHOOSH, gallons and gallons of nasty water and Liquid Plumr hit me square in the face and soaked me head to toe.  In my shock, some of that crap went into my mouth and I was pretty sure I'd swallowed it.  I immediately felt whoozy and we panicked and loaded the whole family into the van for a quick trip to the emergency room.

Michael had the brilliant idea of calling poison control on the way there.  He got someone and put me on the phone with her.  The very nice lady at Poison Control then proceeded to talk me down and soon we were turning around and heading back home.  From what I described to her, I was only feeling an adrenaline rush and had not swallowed enough chemicals (and who knows what else!  Yuck!) to do any real damage.  I went home and drank a small glass of milk, as instructed.  I then took a nap on the chaise while Michael went downstairs to extract revenge upon the evil drain pipe.  Sadly, he must have compacted the clog, because it still won't drain.  I can't cook because I can't wash dishes and I feel miserable.  I'm gonna take some NyQuil, now.  Nighty-night.  Hey, at least it wasn't the toilet drain pipe, right?

recuperation: a rough guide

When A was recuperating from gall bladder removal, she told me she thought recuperation would be a great topic for this blog. I thought it would be too, but I wasn't totally convinced I could do it justice. I didn't feel like I necessarily knew the right things to do. It was really a matter of just getting through every day. It's taken recuperating from my own injury to make me realize I did an okay job when A was the one on the couch, and to sharpen my focus on the things I definitely should be doing when it's my turn.

Now, I am recuperating from a back injury, and I have the unique opportunity to address it from the perspective of both the patient and the caretaker.

This isn't the first time I've recovered from something. I've had a handful of surgeries over the years, a broken limb and even a bout with cancer. This time it's a back injury. If you follow my more general blog Upon Reflection, you know I went on a recent trip to Denver under less than ideal circumstances. I spent the latter half of the first day walking and waiting around on hard concrete with improper shoes and a heavy messenger bag full of too much stuff, including an overly weighty laptop. A few days later, a nagging pain developed on the left half of my lower back, opposite the side from which the bag hung nearly nonstop on that first day. The pain was not too bad, and went away after a couple of days. Several days later, first thing in the morning, I was bending over to pick something up, and a terrible pain seized the very spot that had hurt after that trip. But this time it was much worse; it was painful to bend my back at all, and to stand was agonizing. Fortunately, I was not so disabled that I couldn't make my way to a doctor's office and get an exam. Also fortunately, I can find different positions, all reclining, that are relatively comfortable. But getting up and down causes horrible pain, as does, sadly, sitting down in the restroom. I've been taking an anti-inflammatory and muscle relaxant for a few days now. My doctor thinks the bag I carried could have been a contributing factor, but she things being overweight is probably playing a bigger role.

I spent last night on the couch. I can make it into the bedroom to sleep, but it's not easy getting to sleep and I don't want to keep A from getting her well-deserved sleep. Plus, I just didn't feel like exacerbating things by moving around. But I do not intend to make a habit of this, and plan to get back in the bedroom as soon as I can.

Poor A has had to run the whole show the last couple of days. Fortunately, my two boys from a previous marriage, who were with us all last week to attend a local day camp, are in Utah with their mother this week. That leaves our darling five-year-old daughter, A, me, and our feisty Jack Russell Terrier, Milo. Day one went pretty smoothly; day two, things weren't quite as smooth. It didn't help that in day two I was already feeling depressed, by the pain, boredom, and being unsure when I would feel any better. It seemed like the meds weren't helping, and if anything I was feeling more stiff on day two than day one. I couldn't help with dinner (I cook most of the meals and when I don't, I at least help); I also couldn't walk the dog or help our daughter with bedtime.

We decided to backslide on meals. Most meals in our household are made at home. This was one way we could cut down on the demands put on poor A. So we've been eating frozen dinners the past couple of days. Interestingly, my appetite is not its usual active self; a Lean Cuisine normally feels like an appetizer to me. Last night it was more than enough. I guess this could be explained by my lack of activity. Also I've been feeling a bit of depression that has diminished my usual interests, and to say I am a foodie is a bit of an understatement. We had some delicious homemade chocolate pie left over from Father's Day, and I have to admit, that perked me up a lot. Plus, we watched Young Frankenstein for the hundredth time. It's one movie that I never get tired of,and I find it's silly humor and earnest homage to old horror movies very comforting. These simple things did lift my spirits.

One feeling that has been worse than the pain has been the guilt of not bring able to help out around the house. What's made me feel a little better was doing some things that don't require heavy lifting- working on the grocery list, for instance, and paying some bills. It made me feel less disconnected from everyone else, and, strangely enough considering it was just bill paying, alleviated some of the boredom.

If I were unable to do even these simple sit-down things, I could see feeling pretty sorry for myself. However, I think I would have to remind myself that inactivity now will help my body heal and perhaps be even better when recovered. Occupying your mind is one thing you can do, sure. But I also find it helpful to try to find reasons to appreciate the moment. If you were in terrible pain and on some mind-altering drugs like morphine, of course this would be impossible; but as I am not and my pain only occurs when in motion, I try to appreciate the very small things, like the softness of the cushion, the sound of our loyal dog snoring nearby, the beauty of the songbirds that whizz by the dining room windows occasionally. It's like a mini-meditation. Although I have to have movies and my laptop and books to distract me the rest of the time, trying to find beauty in the mundane is a valuable exercise- something that will doubt serve me other periods of convalescence to come.

So, generally speaking, for the recovering:

Don't let your relationships slide. Stay in touch with your SO so they can vent frustrations if needed, and you can stay current.

-find something to indulge in, if it works with your illness. a delicious dessert and a funny movie can really help.

-find ways to lessen the burden on your SO, if you have one. don't disengage completely; find a way to be helpful, if at all possible.

If you can't help at all, acknowledge this is a time to heal and the less activity, probably the better, until your body starts healing. Find a source of entertainment- and, from time to time, acknowledge there is still beauty in life even if you feel like crap.

For the helper/spouse/whomever of the recovering:

-let them rest. They can make the extra burden on you now up to you later.

-Take care of the essentials (like laundry and feeding the kids) first- that will help your sick help mate feel better, unless they are self-absorbed dipwads.

-ask what they need occasionally. I guess that's obvious. or is it?

-help line up the meds- especially if pain meds are involved, the patient can lose track of it, especially if there is more than one med on a different schedule than the other. Like I have now. Aargh.

If it's feasible, suggest something they can do to help. No matter how insignificant it may seem to you, having a little something useful to do can really help them deal with the down time.

SOAPBOX: Kids and food

Let's just call this my kids and food manifesto.

I've had it. Our kids diets are appalling. They barely eat one fruit or vegetable per day. They gorge themselves on frozen processed foods, super salty ramen noodles, and snack on candy. If it weren't for ketchup, all their meals would be monochromatic.

I'm ready to lay down the law. Our mission is clear--this is our summer to get the family healthy

• Start them all on a kid's dietary supplement that isn't heavy with artificial colorings.

• Get them involved in planting and growing vegetables in our garden.

• I will start keeping food diary--I want to keep track of what they're eating and how quickly afterward someone has a meltdown, asks for a snack, or complains of being tired. Kids can have bad reactions to food colorings and nutritional deficits, which might manifest themselves as mood swings, anger issues, and an inability to express oneself clearly.

• I want them on probiotics. Kids who have had repeated ear infections and courses of antibiotics can have an excess of candida in their systems. Candida causes yeast infections and produces toxins--another factor that might contribute to mood swings. Probiotics would counteract the bad effects of antibiotics.

• Get the kids involved in food production--baking, cooking, mixing stuff in the kitchen

• Place a stronger emphasis on healthy foods in the diet

1. Order some nutrition books geared toward kids--convince them that they will be happier and healthier if they eat more fruits and veggies. Our kids will probably need more convincing than most and a definitive outside source would help tremendously. While discussing nutrition, they frequently seem to be somewhat mystified on how to define "healthy foods." A good book would go a long way to clarify some issues for them. I found a book on Amazon: My Food Pyramid
2. Talk with them at meal times and at the grocery store about healthy choices. Get them into a constant dialogue regarding what foods and activities would keep them strong and healthy.

• Stop serving junk. Throw all the junk away. No more chips. No more nuggets. Nothing fried. No more cereals with marshmallows. No more super sweet yogurt in dayglo colors.

I honestly don't mean to be a Nazi about this, but I feel enough is enough. I won't deny them the many pleasures of good food. This campaign of mine isn't about denial. It's about adding more things to the diet and judiciously expending their "pleasure" calories on foods that are higher in quality than Trix cereal or some damned box of cookies that contains garbage none of us can pronounce. Homemade pleasures are in abundance at our home and the kids can get involved in making those things. I know how to make homemade marshmallows for crying out loud! Mama ain't no slouch in the kitchen. The Chips A-frickin'-Hoy are not entering this household ever again!

--A